The Gift
by Colonel Cooper
Summary: A four part story in which Ben discovers Coop at One-Eyed Jack's - and concocts a nasty little scenario.
1. Prologue: A Nasty Little Scenario

Benjamin Horne eased back into his office chair at One-Eyed Jack's, took a leisurely and appreciative puff from his cigar, and thought about the new girl. It was far-and-away his favourite perquisite about being the co-owner of a casino/brothel – he was in a position to sample, first, all of the newest, freshest merchandise that his contacts sent his way. Well, only if he won the coin-toss with his partner, younger brother Jerry, that is. However, he made it a priority to keep Jerry out of the country, for as long as he could reasonably get away with – so, for the vast majority of the time, he was their first client. He leant back even further, thinking about the dozens of young women he had bedded over the last five years, and the familiar stirring in his pants caused him to smile, salaciously. He was the proverbial little boy in a sweet shop. Unlike Jerry, who was a bull in a china shop – according to Blackie, at least! Would the two of them ever be able to sate their overwhelming Epicureanism? He hoped not, for he was forming plans. Oh, the things he was going to do with the new girl tonight.

The sound of the door opening interrupted his lustful thoughts. He glanced up to see Blackie, the Madam he had hired to run this place for him and, without any greeting or preamble, she cut straight to the chase. "We might have trouble."

He looked at her more closely and noticed, not for the first time, how her drug habit was, by imperceptible degrees, beginning to take its toll on her looks. It was a drug habit that he had initiated, and continued to subtly maintain; he preferred his employees to be easily malleable, and what better way than to be continuously in his debt? He knew, in his heart, that he was a contemptible bastard for those actions but, in all honesty, he was more than happy with that admission – in many ways, relishing the ruthlessness with which he treated everyone, friends and enemies alike.

He took his cigar, somewhat reluctantly, out of his mouth and sighed. "Blackie, must you always expect the very worst from our loyal customer base?"

She shrugged. "Well, it's your casino that's losing money hand over fist to one of them. But, if that isn't trouble enough, I'm certain they're cops – U.S. cops, at that – they both emit a certain bouquet."

He adjusted his glasses and sighed again. His erection was beginning to flag – he hated that. "Okay, let's have a look at them on that thing," he said, pointing to the TV monitor on the corner of his desk. "I presume you know where they are?"

Blackie picked up the remote and deftly started pressing buttons. "Well, the cute one making a killing at the Blackjack table is – here." An image appeared on the monitor of a young man wearing a tuxedo, a sizeable pile of chips arrayed on the table in front of him.

He did a double take, before he rose out of the chair to grip the edge of his desk to steady the sense of disbelief, his fallen cigar, forgotten, on the carpet at his feet. "What the devil is he doing here?"

Blackie calmly glanced between the monitor and her employer, and raised an eyebrow as her curiosity piqued. "By your reaction, I presume you know him, and you're not best pleased he's here."

He continued to look at the monitor, as his cigar started to burn a hole not two inches from his right foot. He knew him all right. The image on the monitor might be of a young gambler wearing a tuxedo and a pair of glasses – but glasses had never been much of a disguise for Clark Kent – and they weren't much of a disguise for Dale Cooper, either. "Yes, I know him," he snarled. He sniffed, and finally became aware of the damage his cigar was happily inflicting. With a grunt, he bent down to retrieve it and vented his anger by stubbing it out, vigorously, in the ashtray. He looked at Blackie, while his right hand stabbed in the direction of the monitor. "That happens to be the F.B.I. agent investigating the murder of Laura Palmer, goes by the name of Cooper. He's staying at the Great Northern. Your instincts didn't let you down, my dear, I shouldn't have doubted you."

She accepted his apology with a brief nod of the head before sitting down opposite and entwining her fingers together in an attitude of deep thought. "So, if he's Bureau – what is he doing here? I wasn't aware he had any jurisdiction on this side of the border?"

He tore his gaze away from Cooper to look at her, a lascivious smile appearing on his face, as his mind began concocting nasty little scenarios. "You may have something there, my dear." He trailed his tongue along his lower lip, as his mind worked overtime. "Do we have any of our RCMP regulars in tonight? The Deputy Commissioner, for example?"

Blackie nodded. "DC is here, yes, and our stock of celery is just about holding out."

He shook his head and snorted. "That damn fetish of his. Did he mention anything? The usual heads-up?"

"About cross-border operations and the Bureau here tonight? Not a word."

"Excellent. That means Cooper has been flagrant with the rules, and is here illegally. Oh, the arrogance of the man. I wonder if there's any way he could be used."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You're not seriously thinking about trying to blackmail him?"

"Why not," he snapped back, instantly. "He wouldn't be the first agent I've blackmailed, and I know he won't be the last. And besides, it's not strictly blackmail I'm considering – I just want him in my corner of the ring, for the duration of his stay."

"You're playing with fire, Ben."

He looked at her, and thought about simultaneous schemes. Playing with fire – if she only knew how true that statement was, tonight of all nights. In a matter of hours, the Packard Saw Mill would fall victim to a catastrophic fire and, if Leo Johnson did as instructed, with Catherine Martell inside at the time. Goodbye Packard Saw Mill, Hello Ghostwood Development Project. "You know, if you never experience a little heat, let yourself get right to the edge of being burnt, you never build up the resolve to get the necessary things done. So, just bring him in here, Blackie. I'm going to give him a gift that he won't be able to refuse."

"And what might that be?" she asked curiously.

He leant back in his chair, slowly clasping his hands behind his head, a triumphant smile on his face. "I'm going to give him the new girl!"


	2. Verbal Sparring

"Now I know you've gone crazy – you're forsaking your favourite perk? The first sampling of new blood? In some crazy delusion that you can use him? Or control him?"

Ben merely smiled as he listened to Blackie's increasingly frenetic questioning. However, to be fair to her, he had to concede that she was making legitimate points. He was going to forsake the new girl – because in her place he would have an F.B.I. agent right where he wanted him, bound tightly and under control. It seemed an equitable exchange, though his loins might disagree with him later in the evening. Tiring of her questions, he stood up and raised his left palm in the age-old sign indicating 'stop.' "Blackie, it's no use, I've made up my mind. He's crossed the border, illegally, and so has absolutely no way out. He'll have no alternative but to participate in my little scenario – namely, spend a little time with the new girl." He glanced over to the monitor, still showing the image of Cooper at the Blackjack table. Still winning, by the looks of it. "I take it her room is wired for sound and vision?"

Blackie's gaze left his as she recalled in her mind the specifics of the room. "No, that one just has video; we won't be able to hear them at it. A blessing, perhaps." She handed the remote control to him. "It's number nine."

An image of an extravagantly decorated bedroom appeared on the monitor. It appeared unoccupied, but a rustling of the drapes surrounding the bed indicated otherwise. He smiled. "She seems the shy type. What's her name?"

"Hester. I'd agree, somewhat, with your assessment – but she can do things with her tongue that you wouldn't believe."

He sent his gaze heavenward and sighed. "Oh Blackie, don't give me cause to regret my decision, please. Before my desires get the better of me, you'd better escort the good agent in here." He nodded towards the monitor. "Before you do, though, better get this where he can't see it. On the floor, under my desk, should be good enough. Just make sure you can't see it from the door."

While waiting for their return, he busied himself with the familiar, satisfying actions of re-lighting his cigar, and pondered how best to greet Cooper, how best to put him off his guard. With a smirk, he swivelled to face the wall, thus presenting the tall back of the chair to his guest. He heard the door open and Blackie's voice saying, "Agent Cooper, may I present the owner of One-Eyed Jack's." Even if that wasn't technically correct, it gave him amusement. Cooper's footsteps approached his desk, and stopped. On a whim, he decided to prolong the anticipation by counting down from ten.

"Good evening Mr. Horne. Nice brothel you have here."

In astonishment, he span back and rose out of the chair, his cigar barely held in the corner of his mouth. "How the devil did you know, Cooper?" Looking across at Blackie, still stood by the door, he merely spread his hands in an act of appeal.

Blackie, in indignation, placed her hands on her hips. "Don't look at me."

Cooper merely smiled, enhancing his annoyance still further. "Do you intend making me guess?"

"You know, Ben," Cooper stated, "If your desire is to retain some measure of anonymity, it might be an idea to get rid of those cigars. They're a dead giveaway to a fully trained agent."

For the second time that evening, he took his frustration out on his cigar, this time mashing it into an unrecognizable mass of tobacco leaves heaped in the ashtray. "Indeed. Well, congratulations on your heightened olfactory senses." He sat down, indicating that Cooper do the same. "It seems we have much to discuss, Agent Cooper, and the evening draws on, so if you don't mind – just what are you doing in my casino?"

"Playing Blackjack."

"Don't be cute, Cooper – I don't like cute. Let me subtly rephrase my question, then. What are you doing in my casino – _in Canada_?" He saw Cooper's eyes widen, as his question hit home, and he knew that he had him. Cooper was here without the knowledge and permission of the Canadian authorities – and he knew that Cooper knew that he knew. What would the resourceful agent do? Would he play it straight, or attempt to bluff his way out?

"I'm here chasing down a lead in the Laura Palmer case."

"Go on"

"One of your croupiers – Jacques Renault – was one of three men to have sex with Laura on the night she was killed. I want to ask him some questions and, to do that, I need him back in the U.S."

"Jacques?" He raised his eyebrows in consternation. "Forgive me for being blunt, but Jacques … how should I phrase this … isn't exactly a small man."

Cooper shrugged. "From what I've learnt about Laura's proclivities, she didn't really care who she had sex with – the act itself was all she craved. A terrible fate to befall someone so young."

"Indeed." Ben thought back to his own couplings with Laura, both here and at the Great Northern. Had that been all he'd been to her? A random man to satisfy an overpowering need? Had there been nothing of love? For he had truly loved Laura, in a way that, he knew, he could never fully rationalize to another human being. With irritation, he shook those depressing thoughts from his mind, for he had a game to play, and he wasn't about to let melancholia stand in the way of making Cooper dance to his merry tune. "I'll tell you what I'll do, in the spirit of our new-found friendship. I can get Renault back to Twin Peaks, on some pretext or other – and once there, you can question him to your hearts delight. What do you say?"

Cooper idly brushed some imagined dust from the leg of his pants, before he answered. "I had everything well in hand, Ben. I had sufficient bait to lure him back across the border, though this summons may well have changed that. If that happens to be the case then, of course, I'll consider your offer."

He clapped his hands together. "So we're partners then! Let's have some champagne to celebrate." The look Cooper gave him was full of suspicion. Well it might be, for he had the parameters of this conversation fully surveyed, whereas Cooper, by contrast, was blindly groping across the exterior surface of an iceberg. Only he knew of the immensity below the surface.

"A small favour, such as this, hardly equates to a partnership, Ben."

He smiled, and raised a finger, wagging it in Cooper's direction. "Ah, but that's where you're not seeing the full picture. There isn't just the small favour to consider, there's also the large one we haven't got to yet."

"I take it we're going to, or shall we continue to spar?"

"If you insist." He looked over to Blackie. "Tell me, my dear, how many senior officers of the RCMP do we have with us tonight?"

"Three, as at an hour ago – there may be more now. Deputy Commissioner Leveaux is the highest ranking of them."

He turned his full attention back to Cooper, spreading his arms wide. "You see our dilemma? What do you think would happen if Leveaux walked in here, right now, and was witness to your unlawful intrusion into this country? He's an overly officious man, does everything strictly by the book, including his sexual activities, as strange as they undoubtedly are."

"If this is some not-so-subtle hint of blackmail, Ben, then I can assure you …"

"Tell me, Cooper," he interrupted, secure in the knowledge that an international border lay between Cooper and his authority. "Extradition, certainly. Suspension, probably. Am I right so far?"

The only sound in the room, for several seconds, came from Cooper breathing noisily through his nose. Ben could visibly see him contemplating his options, and prepared his final move in the game.

Cooper eventually answered the hanging questions. "You're right on both counts. Worst-case scenario would be dismissal from the Bureau."

"And we don't want that, do we?"

Cooper looked up at him sharply, the disdain all too apparent on his face, and in his voice. "I really don't know what it is that you want. You talk of cooperation and new-found friendship on the one hand, yet there's the continual threat of blackmail on the other. What game are you playing here, Ben?"

He picked up a cigar, and rolled it between his fingers. "Just a little game of my own devising, Agent Cooper. Moreover, it's time to make the final move. My checkmate, if you like. Now, in the normal course of events, whenever we have a new girl starting at One-Eyed Jack's, myself and my co-owner Jerry – my brother, if you don't know – have the honour to be her first client. Not that we pay for it, naturally."

"Honour?" Cooper sneered contemptuously. "What can you possibly know about honour? How can you even mention the concept in regards to prostitution?"

"We obviously have differing interpretations of the word. As I was saying," he continued," we usually exert our owner privileges – but tonight, to mark our new-found friendship and respect, I'm going to waive my privilege, and let you do the honours." He stood and walked round the desk to sit on the front edge, looking down on the Bureau man. "Agent Cooper, I'm giving you the new girl – for one hour – don't let me down."

Cooper slowly stood up, shaking his head, and turned towards the door. "It's time I was leaving. I've endured this farce too long. I have a job to do."

He let him get halfway to the door. "Wait just a second, Mr. Cooper."

The blatant omission of his title stopped Cooper in his tracks, as he knew it would. "Have you forgotten what I am, Ben?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you are, and where – and it's the where that is most pertinent here. You see, I'm a legitimate Canadian businessman, in Canada legally overseeing his business – and while it's true that no one in the U.S. knows that I'm a Canadian businessman, that secret can't last forever, so don't think for a second that you can use that as leverage against me." He strolled up to Cooper and stood directly behind him. "You, on the other hand, have absolutely no business whatsoever being in Canada, right now. In fact, you're breaking several treatises governing law enforcement activities between the two countries. I hold your future in my hands – and don't you forget it, Special Agent."

Cooper whirled round, a look of utter contempt etched plainly on his face, his voice a hiss through gritted teeth. "You seriously think I'm going to sleep with one of your prostitutes?"

He calmly placed the cigar he'd been holding in Cooper's breast pocket. "Who said anything about sleeping? You've only got her for an hour – if you can't stay awake in that time, you're less of a man than I already think you are."

"The feeling is mutual, Ben, believe me. This is insane. The answer is still no. Absolutely not."

"I don't think so. You see, it's either this – or your career is finished. From what I know of you, your career is everything, you have nothing else. Blackie will escort you to … what was her name again, my dear?"

Blackie glided easily up to Cooper and, while adjusting his bow tie, much to his chagrin, described the girl. "Her name's Hester, somewhere between 18 and 20, petite, short black hair, very pale complexion – the contrast between the two is absolutely striking – ample bosom…"

"That should be enough," he cut in," to whet the good agent's appetite – it's certainly done wonders for mine! So, Cooper, are you ready to play?"

**-o0o-**

Cooper stood there, with Ben and Blackie on either side, at a loss how to proceed. There was no way that he could, as an F.B.I. Special Agent, sleep with the girl, even if he appeared to have no say in the matter. However, he had no idea how to extricate himself from this mess of a situation. Hindsight always seemed obvious at the time, but looking back showed that the whole cross-border operation had been a disaster, almost from its conception. They'd spent most of the afternoon trying to get the electronic wire to work, before discarding it entirely due to feedback issues. Only his unwavering confidence had convinced Harry to proceed at all. Now, as he stood there, his mind racing, analyzing and discarding scenarios by the handful, only one solution presented itself as feasible in any way. He knew he couldn't talk Ben or Blackie out of this ludicrous set-up, but could he talk Hester out of it? Two nights previous, he had returned to his room at the Great Northern to find young Audrey Horne in his bed. He had succeeded in talking her out of a sexual encounter and they had become good friends in the hour that she was there. Maybe he could do something similar here. What else could he do? "Okay Ben, you win. If Blackie could take me to her, we'll get this over with." He could've punched Ben's triumphant grin clean off of his face.

"I knew you'd see it my way in the end. Blackie, if you could do the honours, please. Enjoy yourself, Agent Cooper. We'll talk again in an hour."

Half way out of the door, he stopped and glanced back. "I look forward to it – and the talk." His apparent nonchalance in the face of personal humiliation and the spontaneous adjunct to his remark were his means of somehow gaining any advantage, no matter how small, and were second nature to him now. If he could sow seeds of doubt or persuade Ben to see ambiguity where none existed, then so much the better. Armed men stood at either end of the corridor; at a safe distance should he try anything, so making a run for it was out of the question. Besides, Big Ed was still somewhere in the casino, oblivious to his predicament. He followed Blackie round several corners before she stopped outside Hester's room and unlocked it.

"Enjoy – and, may I suggest, you wait until afterwards before smoking the cigar." She indicated that he enter, the same self-satisfied grin on her face that Ben had worn seconds earlier.

He ignored her and took three paces into the room, hating the décor immensely. He listened as Blackie locked the door behind him and her footsteps receded back up the hallway. "Hester, stay calm and listen to me. I'm an American F.B.I. Agent currently undercover, but Mr. Horne has …"

"Agent Cooper?" A small black-haired missile exploded through the drapes and attempted to merge in a tangle of arms and legs. He only realised it was Audrey when she proceeded with a veritable stream of dialogue, "I knew it would be you who rescued me, but then you saw my note, so who else could it have been? Agent Cooper, I think I'm in a little over my head…"

"Audrey, slow down," he interrupted, trying to disentangle his limbs from her desperate embrace. Trying to remain in a state of relative calmness was almost more than he could muster, given the circumstances of young female flesh pressed tightly against his own –and her almost state of undress. At least, this time, she wasn't completely naked! Eventually he was able to ease her slightly off, so that he could look down into her face, her bewilderment mirroring his own. "Audrey, what in holy smokes is going on here this evening?"

**-o0o-**

"Audrey? What the hell…?"

Blackie caught Ben's confused questioning of thin air as she re-entered his office. She closed the door in such a way as to attract his attention. "Who's Audrey?"

Ben looked in her direction, and snapped. "My daughter, eighteen-years-old, always been trouble. I only got a quick glimpse before he got in the way … but it looked something like her."

She glided up to his desk and glanced at the monitor. Cooper was standing in the middle of the room, with his back to the camera. All that was visible of Hester was a couple of arms around his waist and a leg locked around his calves. "Do you have a picture of her?"

Ben sighed and with a nervous hesitation that she'd rarely seen in her employer, stammered, "I think so … my wallet." He fished around for a few seconds before handing a small photo to her. "The most recent one I have, about nine months old."

She looked at the finely honed features, the black hair, the beauty spot, and instantly recognized the young woman she'd interviewed – the young woman who called herself Hester. "She's a lovely girl – but then I told her that in her interview." The smashing of Ben's fist onto the desk took her by surprise.

"Battis – what the devil is he doing sending my daughter here?"

She shook her head. "Emory didn't send her. He has a girl called Jenny in the pipeline, but no one else. She's here on her own volition, complete with fake background and cover story. For some reason, she wants to be here."

Ben continued to look intently at the monitor. "Cooper – this is all about him. I think she's got a thing for him, I've seen her with him at breakfast. That whole 'I want to learn the family business and be your daughter again' conversation was her way to poke around and help him."

She listened raptly as Ben rambled on, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Normally he presented a cool, polished exterior – so this was a side she'd rarely seen. It was something to relish. "If she's got this far, she has good instincts."

"Naturally." Ben straightened up and, to her eyes, he was instantly a different man – back to the man she knew of old. "She has my blood in her veins, after all."

She glanced back to the monitor, where Cooper had managed to untangle himself, to a limited extent, and appeared to be deep in conversation with Hester – or Audrey, as she now knew her to be. "Do you want me to get him out of there? Or her?"

Ben pursed his lip and slowly smiled. "No, to both questions. It seems like he's done me a favour, after all that should've been me in there. Not a confrontation a man should have with his own daughter. I wonder what he'll do."

She watched, incredulous, as Ben sat down and began the ritual of lighting up a new cigar. "And what if they start having sex? Will you calmly sit and watch?" His answering smile chilled her to the bone, and she felt the first, faint hint of her craving.

"Of course not, Blackie. I may be a voyeur, but even I have no desire to watch as my own daughter gets … de-flowered."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. A virgin? It was hard to believe after seeing her in the flesh, and knowing what she did of Twin Peaks. She had supposed that everyone was at it.

Ben caught her implicit question. "Yes, I think she is. She's never displayed much interest in boys, or men - until now of course." He pointed to the surveillance equipment. "To answer your question, we'll turn the monitor off, but it keeps recording, no matter what. And now, if you don't mind, my dear, I could do with a drink."

"Of course, Ben." She rose and moved to the drinks cabinet. While preparing two large ones, she glanced back at Ben to see him, chin propped up on fist, inane grin on his face, intently watching the monitor. She pondered, not for the first time, at the inconsistencies in his nature; he was a small boy, rapt with delight at the flickering images on the monitor; yet he was also a calculating old bastard, for those images were of an F.B.I. Agent and his own teenage daughter. It was a dichotomy she found equally fascinating and repulsive. She didn't believe that Cooper would compromise himself as easily as Ben presumed, but Cooper was a man – and Audrey was young, beautiful, and semi-naked – so all bets were off. Returning to the desk, she set the drinks down and received no acknowledgment from Ben, mesmerised as he was. With a smile and a shake of the head, she sat down and turned to the monitor. What would the next hour bring? The capitulation of an entrapped lawman or the crushing of Ben's pipedream? She settled down to watch.


	3. Trading Blows

Cooper was beginning to win the battle of disentangling himself from Audrey's grasp – but trying to understand what she was talking about was still some way off. "Audrey – I thought we were friends – why are you in cahoots with your father in blackmailing me? Was the other night just a preliminary run-through to see if I was interested?"

He looked down into her face and knew, instantly - the dark eyes brimming with tears and bewilderment, the quiver of her lips – that he had this whole situation figured out wrong. He was making a habit of misjudging this young woman, as most people did. In many ways, she had much in common with Laura – but where Laura had unsuspected depths that had remained hidden from view, Audrey had attainable heights that few even attempted to scale. A tragedy, not just for Audrey, but for those too prejudiced to see the truth – like her father, for instance. He also knew that Audrey was ignorant of Ben's involvement in this place. So the more important question was – did Ben know that Audrey was the new girl? "Agent Cooper – what are you …? I don't understand."

"I can see that, Audrey," he whispered, trying to give her a comforting smile. "How about we go and sit on the bed – I think we have a great deal to discuss. " He gently stroked some loose strands of hair away from her eyes. "I could ask for fries and malts, but I don't think this place is quite as accommodating as the Great Northern."

His attempt at levity had the desired effect of inducing some nervous laughter. "I think the term room service has a different meaning here," she coquettishly responded in kind.

As she turned towards the bed, he held her back by placing a hand on her shoulder. "You were supposed to tell me all of your secrets, yet you never mentioned this job. We don't …"

"But this wasn't the job that…"

"It makes no difference, Audrey. No secrets from now on; this isn't a game we're playing." For emphasis, he briefly tightened his grip. "I need to know everything from now on. Is that clear?"

As Audrey stood there, he could see her grinding her teeth together, and felt mixed emotions at her stubborn streak. It could be a useful trait for an agent in the field but, contrary to that, it was also liable to be counter-productive – especially in tight spots, as now certainly was. Eventually she met his gaze and nodded, briefly, and he barely made out her whispered reply of okay. She turned and sat on the bed, and he was grateful that she piled the blankets around herself; she'd been displaying far too much flesh to remain focussed during a conversation

He joined her on the bed, making sure there was a certain distance between them – close, but not too close. "Audrey, just what are you doing masquerading as a prostitute in a Canadian brothel?"

As he expected, she found it difficult to meet his gaze and her muttered reply came while staring down into her lap. "I was trying to help you."

He spread his palms in consternation. "And this is supposed to help me how, exactly?"

She raised her head, sharply, and met his gaze. He could see a spark of determination ignite in her eyes, one of the things that he found so fascinating about her. On the one hand, she was a naïve schoolgirl, ignorant of the world at large in so many ways, yet wearing a mask of womanhood to project a false identity. On the other hand, there was a fiery resolve about her - a 'can do' attitude - that wouldn't admit to failure. Her being here was testament to that. "I got a job at Horne's – the perfume counter."

"Like Laura and Ronette."

"Yes. I found out that the store manager – a real piece of slime called Battis – worked for the owner, here, in recruiting girls for various roles. The most lucrative, and the one he obviously angled for, was as a hospitality girl – it didn't take much working out what that meant. Ronette was one of the girls he recruited."

"And Laura?"

"I don't know – not yet."

He smiled. Even now, Audrey displayed her innate belief that she could do anything she set her mind to. It reminded him of his own self-belief, and yet, where had that belief gotten him? Locked up with Audrey for the next hour, at least. She'd mentioned the owner, yet it was obvious she didn't know who it was. Well, it was time to remedy that. "I've just had the dubious pleasure of meeting the owner – it's your father, Audrey. If you didn't know, you must have suspected at some level. Your note under my door, for instance."

The blood drained from Audrey's face as pieces of the puzzle slotted into place. "I knew that he was aware of this place; I overheard him and Jerry planning a visit last week, with a vague mention of the perfume counter. My curiosity was piqued, because I knew that Laura had worked there, so I sweet-talked Daddy into getting me an interview with Battis. It was easy enough to blackmail him into …" She halted, as more memories intruded. "You mentioned blackmail, when you came in. Agent Cooper, why are you in here?"

**-o0o-**

"Oh come on, man, what are you doing in there?" Ben Horne raised his to eyes to the ceiling, in exasperation, and blew out a veritable vapour trail of cigar smoke. The sound of a stifled chuckle caused him to look at his viewing companion, sat across the desk from him – Blackie O'Reilly, the Madam of One-Eyed Jack's. "Something amuse you, Blackie?"

"Well, you do have to admit," she smirked, "that being annoyed at him for not having his wicked way with your own teenage daughter is a bit …"

He pursed his lips and sighed. "In normal circumstances you would, of course, be correct – but this," he snarled, stabbing at the monitor with his cigar, "isn't something I can use against him. Hell, even a kiss and a cuddle could be manipulated to be more damning than it actually is – but no, he just sits and talks."

"Maybe he's just a good man?" she shrugged.

He snorted and stood. "I need a refill. You?" After acknowledging the shake of her head, he crossed to the drinks cabinet and busied himself preparing a top up. "No, my dear, he's got an inner demon, like every man has. I could've sworn that his weakness was women, and that this scenario would bring it out." He walked back to his chair and, looking again at the on-screen activities, shook his head in disappointment. "I'm rarely wrong about these things."

"Because they're your own?"

He looked down at her and scowled. "Don't try and analyze me, Blackie – believe me, you're no Dr. Jacobi." He sat down and took a long pull from his drink. "Before you ask, he's a shrink back in Twin Peaks. A bigger screwball than his so-called patients. He does some work with my son, Johnny, for all the good it seems to do."

"Really? That's interesting – and somewhat coincidental." She glanced at the monitor again, before continuing. "If those two are just going to sit and talk, we're in for a long hour – so maybe you could tell me if it was a coincidence that Laura started tutoring Johnny not long after I dismissed her from here?"

He slowly rested both elbows flat on the desk with arms crossed, and looked at her intently. "Don't tell me you're going to play detective, now, as well? Look where it's got Audrey."

His questioning just brought a dismissive snort of contempt from her and a shake of the head. "Hardly, Ben – but I do read the 'Twin Peaks Gazette.' Laura's death is the only news in it. While they haven't yet connected her to this place, there was a list of all her so-called 'Good Samaritan' activities – it included her working with your son. The date's matched up pretty well."

He leant back in his chair and breathed deeply. He knew that he would never be comfortable talking about Laura to anyone else but, as Blackie had intimated, it seemed they might be in for a long hour. A quote from 'Macbeth' quietly slipped into the forefront of his mind – "Tis better thee without than he within" – and he felt an intense compulsion to answer her question. "It wasn't something I planned, my dear, she came to see me. I got the impression that she thought acts of kindness in the community would counter-balance an imagined darkness inside her, hence her desire to tutor Johnny, amongst other things. I was all too glad to accept her help and, as it happens, she had more success with him than Jacobi appears to have. One afternoon, I was in my office going over contracts, paperwork was all over my desk, when I heard the door softly open and close. It was Laura. She stole over and sat on the desk. I placed my hand on her knee – a sign of affection, nothing more. She covered my hand with one of hers and quietly said, 'Do you ever think about that night at One-Eyed Jack's?' The next thing I know, she's in my lap, her tongue down my throat. I literally threw her onto the desk, scattered all the paperwork to I didn't care where, and we had sex right there and then. Anyone could've walked in at any time – Sylvia, Audrey, Leland – they were all in the building at the time. Maybe that's what made it so … incredible. After that first time, we were more discrete about it, but I could never get enough of her." He looked towards the monitor, to see Cooper and Audrey still talking. "I can't help thinking about what Cooper said – about Laura's need for sex – about not really caring who provided it. I hope that wasn't the case with me."

There was silence in the room for several seconds before Blackie's quiet observation. "You were in love with her, Ben."

He continued to look at the monitor. "Audrey and I … we've never been close. She's never been a daughter I felt I could be proud of – whereas Laura was. For the last few years, I considered her a surrogate daughter, and yet, when I discovered her in that very same bedroom, in the very same lingerie … I wanted her more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life. You know, I sometimes wonder what would've happened that night if she'd been my real daughter – would I have adhered to what society dictates as right and proper? Or would I have succumbed to something taboo and forbidden? After much soul-searching, I really think it would've been the latter. I loved her, Blackie." He took a deep sigh and his gaze settled into his lap. "Now look what you've done," he whispered, "got me all worked up … no release."

Blackie rose effortlessly out of her chair, sashayed around the desk, and gently brushed his knee with her fingers. "Perhaps I could take care of that for you," she remarked, quietly.

He found, to his surprise, that he couldn't meet her gaze, humbled by her generosity. Even though they had been lovers, he was aware that she hated what he'd turned her into, namely an aging Madam with a heroin addiction. An acquiescent nod was all he could manage as he leant back. As he felt Blackie's hands undoing his belt, he closed his eyes … and thought of Laura.

**-o0o-**

"So this whole thing is happening because Daddy thinks he can use you? Blackmail you?"

Cooper smiled and nodded. "Not many men have the temerity to blackmail agents of the Bureau, Audrey, but your father is one of them. I still find it hard to believe, though, that he really thinks that I would so readily incriminate myself."

Audrey piled the blankets around herself, again, until only her head and the barest hint of a foot was showing - both enhanced with a touch of red. "That's because he thinks you're just the same as he is – a man obsessed with satisfying his every lust and whim, no matter how depraved and disgusting. He surrounds himself with people like Emory Battis, who he can twist in any direction he wishes – and so, naturally, he thinks he can do the same to you, Agent Cooper. But you're a better man than he is."

He frowned and looked down, his eyes resting on her exposed toes – and, just as quickly, he tore his gaze away. There had been the vaguest desire to reach out and touch them, which he quickly suppressed while reminding himself, yet again, that she was only eighteen years old, and still at high school. "I'm not sure about that, Audrey," he whispered, his gaze continuing to sweep the room. His eyes rested briefly on a camera on the wall, next to the wardrobe, before returning to meet Audrey's gaze. "It looks like I've been a fool. I should've known there was some kind of surveillance, how else could he blackmail me?"

"Surveillance? What do you mean?"

"Don't look in that direction, but over by the wardrobe there's a camera. The only thing is, I saw no electronic equipment in his office, so who's watching?"

"Yes there is," she answered with a frown. "There's a monitor on the desk. I saw you on it when Blackie interviewed me."

"Well, it's not there now!" He surprised himself by the intensity of his response, and could see that surprise mirrored in Audrey's bewildered expression. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped like that. It's just … today hasn't gone as I'd originally hoped. We spent all afternoon trying to get the wires to work – and now this … it's frustrating. This case is complex enough without having to look over my shoulder to see what games your father is playing."

She lowered her head and her resultant whisper was so faint as to be barely audible. "What game is he playing with me? He must know, by now, that I'm the new girl, so why am I still here, Agent Cooper?"

He felt his left hand tighten into a fist, as he fought the very real temptation to reach out and give Audrey some kind of physical reassurance that everything would work out okay. In her current mental state, she needed the comfort – but he felt that even a friendly squeeze on the shoulder was inappropriate, or could be misconstrued. "His desire to get something on me is apparently more compelling than even his familial ties to you. I'm sorry, Audrey, but your father's a bastard."

She smirked at that, much to his relief, and there was even a trace of a smile as she raised her head. "But how," she asked, "are you going to keep him at bay, now that he has you in his gun-sights?"

He shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. The only language he seems to understand is that of blackmail and manipulation – perhaps I need to speak the same language?"

"How about if you threatened to disclose his ownership of this place? Would that be enough?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "He's way ahead of you there. In our meeting, he intimated that it wouldn't. Oh, it might harm his reputation, in the short term, but it's not something he's overly worried about. Considering all the young girls he must've bedded over the years, it' somewhat surprising the secret has been kept this long. I need something more than that but, at the moment, I don't have many ideas."

"Wait – maybe I do." He waited patiently as Audrey frowned and her gaze swept the floor, allowing her to focus on her thoughts, understanding that she just needed a moment to bring them into clarity. She eventually raised her head, met his gaze, and smiled broadly. "Did you know that he and Catherine Martell are planning to burn down the saw mill?"

**-o0o-**

Ben let out a long, contented sigh, mentally blessed Blackie, and opened his eyes to see her getting refills for the two of them. An itch in his skull morphed into a fully formed thought. "Two of them," he muttered.

"Did you say something?" Blackie asked, returning to the desk with the drinks.

"He's not here alone," he snapped, pointing to the monitor. "Damn, how could I have forgotten that?" He passed the remote to her. "Find him. I want to see who his companion is."

She motioned towards the images of Copper and Audrey in exhaustive conversation. "What about them?"

He shrugged. "So we'll miss two minutes of talking, it'll be no great loss. I want to see who else is risking their career by crossing the border."

As Blackie flicked through several views, he saw the fruits of his investment five years ago. Jack's was now a flourishing concern, attracting scores of wealthy men, all eager to indulge in the dual pastimes of gambling and sex. One of his better business decisions, he thought.

"There he is." She pointed at the screen. "The big one with the curly hair, stood at the bar, talking to Ronnie and Casey."

He adjusted his glasses and peered at the image, not recognizing the hulking figure in conversation with a couple of his 52 Pick-Up girls. Realization only hit him when the man looked around, and then the absurdity of seeing Ed Hurley in a wig and moustache had him convulsed in fits of laughter. It took him several seconds to regain some semblance of composure; all the while, he could see Blackie giving him looks that indicated she thought he'd gone insane. Well, wasn't trying to blackmail an F.B.I. agent insane? He took his glasses off and proceeded to clean them, occasionally wiping at his eyes, knowing that Blackie was in torment.

"Well?" she asked, unable to wait any longer.

He looked at the monitor again and, with a broad grin on his face, shook his head. "That is Ed Hurley, owns a gas farm in Twin Peaks. Obviously, Sheriff Truman didn't want to risk one of his own men."

"Damn, he mentioned a gas farm, when I first met them in the casino, but I just assumed he was getting his cover-story confused. What's so funny about seeing him here?"

"He's in disguise. I haven't seen a hair and moustache combo like that since that German X Certificate double-bill we saw on Jerry's birthday. You can turn back now; Ed has nothing I need."

"Not even the chance to get a free service?"

He smiled, briefly, at her teasing, but the sight of a busy casino, his girls entertaining in the prescribed manner, took the smile off his face, reminding him why he and Jerry had opened this place. The sex. That most basic of human functions, had been an all-consuming hunger, ever since that night when Louise Dombrowski had danced for the two of them, and he had woken later, not fully comprehending what his body had done to him. "When it comes to free services, I get all I need right here, Blackie. When does Jenny arrive, by the way?"

**-o0o-**

Cooper listened intently, as Audrey told him everything she'd heard that night. It wasn't much, but it was enough to spawn a plethora of ideas, most of them unfeasible or overly dangerous, but some of them rife with possibilities. His mind systematically polished and perfected, until one course of action shone more brilliantly than the rest. It wasn't perfect, it was unorthodox, but it was one that he felt comfortable attempting. He waited until she fell silent. "So you don't know when they're planning this?"

Audrey sighed. "No, I'm afraid they didn't say, but it has to be soon. Catherine was positively chomping at the bit. I don't see how he can hold her off much longer. Can you use it, somehow?"

He nodded and gently took one of her hands in his. "Yes, I think I can. Now, I have an idea that may get us out of here – but it's a little unconventional. I need you to follow my instructions implicitly, Audrey, no matter how strange they may appear. Will you do that for me?"

"Of course, Agent Cooper."

"Good." He let go of her hand, stood up, and took three paces away from the bed. Standing with legs slightly apart, he placed both hands on his hips, and turned towards her. "Now, I want you to get on your hands and knees, slowly crawl over to me and remove my pants."


	4. A Submission in Blood

Audrey's eyes widened, comically, in shock – and Cooper smiled at his mild teasing of her. Even though they found themselves captive inside a bedroom, in a brothel, in another country – it was still a fundamental element of his personality to remain upbeat in the face of adversity. He preferred to leave the hard-hearted aloofness to colleagues like Albert – besides, he never felt quite right wearing the Bureau shades. "It's not a trick question, Audrey. Look, what is it your father wants to see?"

Her look of disgust said it all. During their talk of two nights previous, he'd learnt of the distance between every member of the Horne family, especially the distance between father and daughter – and tonight would widen that gap appreciably, perhaps even irrevocably. "I don't want to think about whatever sordid little hopes my father has. The fact that he has us locked in here, together, speaks volumes. He knows by know that I'm the new girl, and yet his main concern still seems to be in blackmailing you – he disgusts me."

"I feel the same way, which is why I intend to end this little farce of his right now, with a little luck. However, to answer my previous question, he's sat in his office, hunched over his monitor, hoping to see a sexual encounter of some kind. So let's give him the impression that he's about to see one – then, when it's snatched away from him, his anger might open the door for us – literally. If we're going to get out of here, this is the only way I can see it happening."

"Okay," Audrey whispered, with a faint hint of a blush. "This has to convince, doesn't it."

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Audrey, but he has to believe what he's seeing. Believe it so much that his nose is pressed up against that screen, slobbering in anticipation of it."

She grimaced. "You have a knack for creating disturbing images. Do you think this will convince him?" With that question, she slid off the bed onto her hands and knees, and slowly crawled over to where he stood, hands on hips.

He had to remember that they had an audience watching, otherwise Audrey's performance would've had him laughing. However, when she placed both hands on his knees, and looked up at him, the impulse to laugh died in his stomach, replaced by a more basic urge. He bent down, took her chin in one hand and, very gently, kissed her. Like Audrey, herself, he found her taste to be a curious contradiction of the bitter and the sweet, an intoxicating package that almost overwhelmed his self-control. Breaking away, he straightened up and smiled. "Don't bury yourself in the role, Audrey." This time, his attempt at levity wasn't just for her benefit, but also for his own, for he knew he'd been close to plunging into the abyss – voluntarily – and that was the last thing he could afford to do, given their current situation. "Now, take them off – slowly."

**-o0o-**

"Hello – what's he doing now?"

Blackie had been idly trimming a nail, bored at the on screen activities, but she looked up at Ben's outburst to see him half out of his chair, shoulders hunched, head craned towards the screen, looking like the vulture he was. Glancing at the monitor in bemusement, she noticed Cooper standing away from the bed with his hands on his hips. "Pretending to be a matador?" she teased.

The look he gave her clearly spelt out one word - contempt. "The obvious response to that, my dear, is 'bull.' No, this is what I've been waiting for. Even he has to run out of words eventually. Now let's see if he's a man of actions, as well. What the …?"

Blackie snorted as she watched Audrey slide off the bed and slowly crawl over to where Cooper stood waiting. She picked up the remote and made as if to use it. "Just say the word, Ben. Personally I'd like to analyze her technique, just for future reference you understand, but I can appreciate your reluctance to do likewise."

"Give me that," he snarled, snatching it out of her hand. "If anyone's going to …" His voice trailed off, his train of thought disrupted by the sudden kiss taking place on the monitor, to be replaced with a self-satisfied grin. "Ah, Cooper – I knew you wouldn't let me down."

As he sat down again, her gaze flickered between him and the screen, and she wondered just how far he was prepared to let things go. He appeared to be spellbound, as Audrey proceeded to undo Cooper's belt and remove his pants – his own daughter was undressing an F.B.I. Agent. It was just what he wanted, so why did she have the feeling that things weren't as they appeared? If only they had audio as well.

Ben let out an exasperated sigh and sent his gaze briefly skywards, as Cooper stepped out of his pants and then appeared to start folding them up. "Don't tell me he's really doing that, talk about being overly fastidious. He has Audrey on her hands and knees at his feet, and he's more concerned with creases? That's federal agents for you. Now where's he off to?"

As Cooper walked slowly in the direction of the camera, she considered in her mind's eye the layout of the room. "He's folding his pants up, prior to hanging them in the wardrobe – has to be. The camera is right next to it. You don't suppose …?" She stopped in mid-supposition, incredulous, as Cooper's gaze slowly rose until he was looking straight into the camera lens. Her mouth slowly opened, speechless, as he then broke out into a huge grin, winked, and covered the lens completely with his pants.

"Damn the man!" roared Ben, his fist slamming onto the desk, as he jumped from his chair. "He's been stringing us along all this time. Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

In mute disbelief, she sat there as Ben hurried from the room, shaking his head and muttering all the while. The slamming of the door jolted her out of her reverie, and she looked around at the, now empty, room and let out a sigh of resignation. "I knew it. Ben, you idiot." She shook her head at the black screen, and rose to join him.

**-o0o-**

Cooper heard the rapid approach of someone, presumably Ben, outside the door and quietly gave Audrey her final instructions. "Get ready to wedge that chair underneath the door handle; I'll take care of your father."

As the key turned in the lock, he wondered whether Ben had brought along reinforcements, though the hurried response to his gambit suggested not. He pressed himself back flat against the wall and, as the door opened, he grabbed Ben's left arm and pulled him over his own outstretched leg, sending him sprawling to the floor. A quick glance into the corridor, before he closed the door, showed it empty. He turned back to see Ben getting to his hands and knees, about to regain his feet, so he grabbed his belt and collar and shoved him, hard, against the bed frame. The crunching impact left Ben incapacitated long enough to enable him to check the door and give Audrey reassurance, before he turned back to the matter at hand – getting some answers before they got out of here.

Ben groaned and held his head briefly, before turning around and looking up at him. There was a small trickle of blood from one nostril and bruising above the right eye. "What do you think you're doing, Cooper? This is my place. I have at least a dozen employees who could take you apart at my say-so. You'll never get away with …"

Cooper sensed Audrey at his side and, before he could guess her intentions, she ended her father's threats with a swift kick to the crotch. As Ben writhed around on the floor, cursing the day his wife had given birth to such a little bitch, he glared down at her. "Have you quite finished?"

"For now," she icily replied, the determination in her eyes very much in evidence, arms crossed in defiance. "I think he's ready to be questioned now, don't you think?"

He couldn't fully suppress a smile as she continued to maintain eye contact. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," he observed quietly. The door handle turning alerted them both that reinforcements had arrived and, when the door refused to open, they heard Blackie's muffled exclamations of concern. He turned back to Ben, to find him in close examination of blood on his fingertips. "Up you get," he indicated, taking hold of his wrist. "You're going to tell Blackie that everything is fine and that we're having a nice, little chat."

Ben glanced up, a look of dazed confusion on his face. "Why is blood red?"

Before he could frame a response, Audrey cut in. "Iron in the blood, don't you know anything? And I thought you were into high school biology!"

He immediately sensed Audrey's acerbic remark act as a catalyst in shaking Ben from the stunned lethargy his treatment had induced; there was a renewed fire in his eyes as he turned to confront his daughter. Before an ugly confrontation could erupt, he wrenched Ben's arm, effectively pinioning him, and frog-marched him to the door, where Blackie's pounding was becoming more pronounced. "Okay, Ben, tell her everything's fine."

"Why should I, when they're clearly not?"

"Because I'll break your arm, if you don't." He twisted Ben's arm further for emphasis.

Ben gasped in pain. "Enough, Cooper, you've made your point convincingly enough, even if it lacks a certain eloquence." He raised his voice to counter Blackie's continued noise. "It's quite alright, Blackie, Agent Cooper and I have come to an understanding. I'll be staying in here, for a few minutes, while we clear the air. In the meantime, the door stays shut; I'll let you know when I'm ready to come out. Is that clear?"

Before hearing Blackie's response, he hauled Ben back towards the bed. "Of course, you meant to say 'When we're ready to come out'" A few feet from the bed, he thrust and sent Ben sprawling, ignominiously.

Ben lifted his head from the mass of blankets, half-turned his head and fixed Cooper with a withering stare. Cooper returned it, unflustered, silent. Sitting up, Ben spread his arms in supplication and apologized. "I can assure you, Cooper, it was merely a slip of the tongue. Now, if I may ask…"

"No." He cut in sharply, his intention to keep Ben squarely on the back foot and defensive. He'd crossed the border in order to question Jacques Renault, but Ben's meddling had fouled that up – so Ben would have to be a replacement. "You seem to be under the impression that we're here for a cosy chat. We're not. Technically, I may be out of my jurisdiction – but this is still the questioning of a suspect. Is that clear?"

Ben's mouth dropped open in incredulity, and his eyes quickly scanned the room. "You … do remember where we are, I take it?"

He looked at him and smiled, but there was no humour in his voice. "Oh, I know where we are. However, you're the one decorated in your own blood and, judging by the grimace you made when sitting up, you're the one with a painful groin."

Ben shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, glanced witheringly at Audrey, before meeting his gaze. "What do you want to know?"

He looked down briefly, to gather his thoughts. Of course, Laura came first. An active case always came first, despite his personal predicament. "First off, I know all about your recruitment of school girls, from the perfume counter at Horne's, to be 'hospitality girls' here. I gather that Ronette was one, but was Laura a second?"

Ben sneered at Audrey, and let out a grunt of disdain. "That was a nice little performance while I was exercising. So much for wanting to be my daughter again."

"Who, in their right mind, would want to be?"

"Why you little …"

"That's enough," he interrupted in exasperation, "from the both of you." He glared at the two of them. "You can have a Horne family civil war when we're back in Twin Peaks, but now isn't the time." He turned his attention back to Ben. "I asked you about Laura."

"Yes," Ben whispered, after a lengthy pause, "but only for one weekend. Blackie dismissed her when it was evident that she had a drug habit."

"Did you have the honour?" He couldn't resist the jibe at Ben's earlier usage of the word, and the look Ben gave him indicated that he was fully aware of the taunt.

Ben shrugged. "What can I say; Jerry was out of the country."

He picked up a muttered 'How convenient' from Audrey, pacing behind him, and had to agree. He had yet to meet the younger Horne brother but, judging from Audrey's stories on the night she turned up in his bed, he'd been cast from a similar mould as his older brother – if anything, even sleazier. "Was there any comeback from that decision? Did she threaten to disclose your ownership of this place? Is that why you gave her a job tutoring Johnny?"

Ben shook his head and sighed. "You have her all wrong, Cooper. She wasn't like that."

He let out a disparaging laugh. "You think you knew her, Ben? No one in Twin Peaks understood her fully, because she never allowed anyone to. She's a ghost that haunts the whole town, and everybody sees a different image of her, the part that they knew. Every new facet of her life that we turn up comes as a revelation, because nobody saw the whole Laura. Now, answer my questions."

"I suddenly have a feeling of déjà vu." Ben removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before he continued. "There was no coercion – from either side – do you understand? She came to see me; it was something she wanted to do. As far as blackmail is concerned, the term came up in conversation once, when she was getting desperate for a fix. I was able to get her some coke, and that was the end of it."

He squatted down on his haunches, so that their eyes were on a level. "I won't even ask where you got it from, but you appear to have your fingers in too many pies, Ben."

"Strictly business, Agent Cooper." A flick of his head indicated the room they were in. "With the occasional pleasure to add a little seasoning."

He snorted at Ben's interpretation of his ownership of a brothel. "Is that how you'd describe having sex with school girls? A little seasoning? Perhaps there's just a little too much relish on your plate, and it's affecting your sense of taste."

Ben silently laughed. "Don't knock it until you've tried it."

He stood up and turned away in disgust, to see Audrey looking at her father in revulsion. Tonight had destroyed what little relationship had existed between the two of them, of that he was now certain. If their brief confinement in this room hadn't been enough, then this conversation was the final straw. Tonight, the two of them had found out that Ben was the co-owner of a brothel, where he satiated his sexual appetites on girls of Audrey's age. He also had no qualms concerning the use of drugs and blackmail; he considered arson to be a legitimate form of business; but most damning of all, he was prepared to use his own innocent daughter in the furtherance of his twisted little schemes. It was a damning list, and he saw no way that it could be set aside during any future attempt to repair their relationship.

He watched as Audrey took two, hesitant steps towards her father. "Did you have sex with her at the Great Northern?"

Ben frowned and became engrossed with the weave on the carpet, remaining silent. He walked over to Audrey and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I think his silence speaks volumes, wouldn't you say?" She nodded, imperceptibly, and turned away from him to stand in the middle of the room, arms folded and eyes focused elsewhere. He realized, with a grimace, how underdressed she was. She'd been wearing the One-Eyed Jack's 'uniform' for far too long. It was time to wrap this up. He turned back to her father. "Did you kill her, Ben?"

"No, I lo… no, I didn't."

He felt his hands tighten into fists, as frustration reared its head again. So, he thought he loved Laura, did he? Well, get in line. "If you didn't kill her, why are you so intent on hindering my investigation into who did?"

The barely-controlled anger in his voice caused Ben to look up and shrug, apathetically. "What can I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time."

He'd been waiting for that opening. "Does burning down the Packard Saw Mill seem like a good idea, as well?"

Ben's pupils contracted in surprise, before he tore his gaze away and looked at the wall. "I'm sure that I have no idea what you're talking about."

"There's really no need to concoct a lie, I know the full story. I know that you and Catherine are plotting to burn it down, to pave the way for your beloved Ghostwood. I know that the Icelandic delegation are close to signing the contract, some of them are in the casino now, being waited on, hand and foot. I do hope they refrain from launching into song." He'd seen a couple of the Icelanders at one of the gaming tables earlier, and had assumed they were out sampling the local nightlife; it was only when he'd found out that Ben owned this place, that he'd put two and two together. Ben was 'greasing the wheels' of the deal, making them more amenable to sign – and he wasn't denying it. "The only thing I don't know is when the two of you plan on doing it."

Ben spread his arms, in denial. "I can assure you, Agent Cooper, that I'm not doing anything with Catherine Martell."

He shook his head in disappointment. "The manager of the Timber Falls Motel could probably testify against that statement. Look, I don't care about your sordid little trysts, Ben. What I do care about is getting out of this damn place, with certain reassurances in place. Therefore, this is how it's going to work. Either the sawmill burns down, or it doesn't. Naturally, I'd prefer the latter, I don't think Twin Peaks could weather the economic disaster that its destruction would cause, but I doubt whether that's a serious consideration to the two of you. If you burn it down, better pray you've organized it well enough that you don't become implicated – because if you are, I'm not going to stand in the way of the investigation. In fact, I'll aid it in any way I can. If the case goes nowhere, though, I won't point it in your direction – unless you force me to."

Ben leant forward on the bed, an intense frown on his face. "Why would you do that for me, Cooper? Doesn't it rather go against everything you believe in as a stoic lawman?"

He gritted his teeth, because Ben was right – it went against every fibre of his being, but he had no other option. Ben had forced his way into his affairs with the threat of blackmail, so he had to force him out with a similar threat. "It's not something I'd want to do, and it's certainly not for your benefit, but you've forced me into it with this little sideshow of yours. I don't have the time, or the inclination, to be the focus of your games, Ben, so this is my way of ending them. Your interest in me, other than as a guest at the Great Northern, ends now. Do you understand?"

Ben scratched his right eyebrow and shifted his weight on the bed. "It seems that I'm still a little in the dark here, about how this is supposed to work. Have you forgotten that I have an incriminating videotape of you and Audrey - admittedly, she's only removing your pants, but still …"

He laughed, briefly, but his smile faded quickly when he shook his head. "You disappoint me, Ben. It's not just you that's in the dark." He half-turned towards the door and pointed. "Your camera is as well, and your videotape – if it's still recording. The darkness brought you in here, and will serve to get us out, because it made you unlock that door. We'll be leaving shortly, to go to your office, where I'll take the tape into my possession – leaving you with nothing. I'll still have the knowledge of your intended arson, though. Are things becoming clearer?"

Ben drew in a long breath, and slowly let it out. "Crystal, Agent Cooper. But what makes you think that Blackie is stood outside that door on her own?"

"It doesn't matter if she is or she isn't, because when I say that we'll be leaving shortly, I don't just mean me and Audrey, you'll be coming with us as well. You're feeling unwell, so I'll offer to take you back home – I am staying at the Great Northern, after all." He pointed at Ben's face. "Your nose has started bleeding again, by the way."

Ben frowned, pressed a couple of fingers under his nose, and then looked at them. "What are you talking about Cooper?"

He struck, just as Ben's gaze was rising to meet his; a palm heel strike just under the nose. He heard a gasp of surprise from Audrey, as her father crashed backwards, blood arcing across the blankets. Clambering onto the bed, he straddled Ben's chest, left hand circling his throat, the right clamping over his mouth before any undue noise alerted those outside to trouble. Although Ben's thrashing around was uncoordinated, he still received a slight glancing blow on the head from a flailing arm, causing him to tighten his grip. "Stop struggling or I'll find your carotid artery and put you out for a few seconds."

Ben glared at him, twin pools of seething hate, but his arms dropped to his side, albeit reluctantly. There was an indecipherable mumble, and blood bubbled from his nose from the force of his breathing.

He turned Ben's head side-on. "You know, I'm getting really tired of the sound of your voice, because it's invariably making threats, but we don't want you choking on your own blood now, do we?" He watched as blood ran freely from Ben's nose and began to soak into the blankets. "I doubt whether this is the first time you've got blood on the bedding, though the fact that it's yours might be a first." The taunt drew another incoherent mumble. "We're leaving now – all of us. Audrey, come and help your father stand up."

"Do I have to?"

He turned his head to see her, motionless, several feet away, both hands knotted into fists. "You can hate him later. Right now, we have to leave – please."

She nodded her head, but he could see that it was with great reluctance that she came forward to help him. He turned back to Ben. "Now remember, you're unwell, feeling faint, we're helping you home – make it look good, or I'll make it genuine"

Between the two them, they got Ben to a standing position, Audrey on his left, while he took the right; it left his right hand free to hold a handkerchief to Ben's nose, near to the throat if it became necessary. "You're insane, Cooper."

He whispered into Ben's ear. "I'm not insane – my ex-partner, now he's insane. I'm just a little mad. Don't try anything; it really won't be worth your while."

They took a couple of paces towards the door, before Audrey stopped. "Um, Agent Cooper, there's something you've forgotten."

He looked at Audrey and Ben, then over his shoulder at the bed, before meeting Audrey's gaze. "Care to give me a hint?" She stretched out her left hand and, following it, he saw his pants, still draped over the camera. "Holy smokes, I'd clean forgotten I wasn't wearing them. You could've told me earlier."

She let out a small laugh of embarrassment. "Perhaps, but maybe I was more interested in enjoying the view!"

**-o0o-**

"… and by that time, I'd exhausted everything I could possibly make up about oral hygiene. I think the two of them had cottoned on to the fact that I was bluffing but, thankfully, that's when Blackie arrived and told me to meet you all in the car park."

Cooper laughed at Ed's traumatic last hour. He hadn't told Ed what he'd been up to, why Ben had a nose bleed, or why Audrey was even there, but he knew there was a meeting of the Bookhouse Boys coming up – it would keep until then. He settled into the back seat of the car, checked again that the videotape was in his jacket pocket, closed his eyes and pondered what he was going to say to Harry. The escape had been surprisingly straightforward in the end; Blackie had been outside the door with two of Ben's heavies, but he was a convincing liar when he needed to be. Ben had been compliant in agreeing with the story, and had been silent ever since they'd opened the door of the bedroom. Audrey, now dressed, had been silent as well; how it might be possible for father and daughter to rebuild their relationship, he did not know. At this point, did either of them care enough to try? He opened his eyes, and glanced across to see her staring, blankly, out of the car window. He reached over and gently took her right hand in his left.

She smiled at him, briefly, and looked at her father, sat hunched in the passenger seat with a bloody handkerchief to his nose. "Daddy?"

Ben raised his head, seemingly startled by the sound of her voice, and turned in his seat to look back. "Yes, Audrey?"

She took a deep breath and tightened her grip on his hand, drawing inspiration from him. "If it had been you, and not Agent Cooper, that came into the bedroom – what would you have done?"

He glanced between Audrey and her father, hoping that an argument wasn't about to flare up, but something outside caught his eye. He peered past Ed, in the driver's seat, but all he could really see was a curious light away to the left. What was over in that direction – Black Lake? No one else had yet noticed, and an icy feeling crawled down his spine as he realized what it must be.

Ben took a deep breath, glanced briefly at Cooper, before meeting Audrey's gaze. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "Let me put it this way – you'll never be Laura."

He felt her hand tighten, as Ben turned, dismissively, back into his seat. To his relief, the look she gave him indicated an air of resignation about the current situation; as if she had anticipated that response, but still wanted to hear her father say it. He gestured to the light outside.

She turned her head and cried out. "My, God, what's that? Is it fire?"

Ed craned his neck to get a better view. "Say, something's caught pretty good out there."

He noticed that Ben hunched himself further down, confirming that his apprehension was fully justified. He leant forward until he was between the two forward seats, right hand resting on the passenger seat headrest. "I think it's safe to assume that the Packard Saw Mill is going up in flames. Wouldn't you agree, Ben?"

**F I N**

**-o0o-**

Author's note: The whole plot of this story came to me over the course of a weekend; it was only during the subsequent writing that two continuity errors reared their ugly head. In the actual show, Cooper wore a wire when he went to One-Eyed Jack's – by the time I'd remembered that fact, and how it would've rendered the plot virtually unusable, I was well into the 2nd chapter – therefore I added the work-around of him mentioning the feedback problems with the wire. In addition, Jerry Horne was also at Jack's that night, and he had no place in my story – so, imagine him entertaining the Icelandic delegation for the entire evening while this story take place. I hope that these two errors don't diminish your enjoyment of this tale.


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